


Post Season 12 Coda

by riseofthefallenone



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Post-Season/Series 12, Spoilers, read the notes at the beginning pls thnx
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 13:47:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10945785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riseofthefallenone/pseuds/riseofthefallenone
Summary: Just a post season Dean/Cas flavoured band-aide to help carry us through to Season 13.Dean has a lot of regrets in his life, but one haunts him and hurts him so much that he doesn't want to believe what his dreams are really telling him.





	Post Season 12 Coda

**Author's Note:**

> Gonna be real with you... I haven’t watched SPN in a few seasons coz’ I can’t do the week to week, season to season stuff. I’m too weak for it, y’know? So I’m saving them up and that means I only have a vague idea of the current plot line. I get some hints and clues and spoilers from gifs and posts, but the vast majority of the finer details of the episodes are still a mystery to me and I’d like to keep it that way until I have the strength to binge 12 (or 13) whole seasons.
> 
> Even so, I tried my hand at taking away some of the sad from last night. If I’ve got some errors going on, my apologies. I tried my best. It’s not a fully fleshed out one shot, but it’s okay I guess? Hope it helps you guys ♥

Dean spends a lot of time sleeping. 

He's depressed. He doesn't want to deal with Mary being gone and he doesn’t want to keep seeing those burned wings into the ground. Hell, he can still remember the smell from the pyre where they burned Jimmy's body. The memories make him want to throw up, and the only way to escape them is by sleeping as often as he can. 

It’s hard, sometimes. Dean has nightmares a lot, but he's got some really good dreams that keep him coming back for more. Dreams of a warm home, a bit on the small side but exactly what he needs. Dreams of a good job working with his hands; fixing cards and building homes. Dreams of a white picket fence outside and a kitchen always smelling of apple pie. 

Those kind of dreams usually start with him reading the newspaper at the kitchen table. Always, always, always his dreams have Cas walk in with nothing but his underpants and Dean's old t-shirt on, his hair rumpled from sleep and his jaw covered in day-old scruff; his eyes practically squinted closed in the morning light. And always, always, always Dean puts his paper down and gets up to whisper a good morning; pulling Cas into a hug and giving him a kiss. 

Dean always remembers in his dreams to tell Cas that he loves him, because he never did it in real life and he doesn't want to have regrets in his good dreams too. 

He doesn't notice it at first when the good dreams change. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t want to, or maybe he chocks it up to dreams just being weird like that sometimes. Either way, he doesn’t really notice it when Cas walks into the kitchen looking around like he's searching for something; fully dressed in his suit with his old coat and everything, looking for all the world like he did the day he died. 

He doesn't notice the difference when Cas's eyes light up and he smiles. "There you are. I've been looking for you." 

"Yeah?" Dean puts his paper down and goes over to Cas, pulling him in to a hug. 

Cas looks surprised, but he leans into the touch. “I've missed you, Dean." 

That’s another clue that goes over Dean’s head; purposefully ignored. "I left you in bed an hour ago. You can't miss me that much." 

"What?" Cas steps back, forehead wrinkled with a frown. "What are you talking abo-" 

Dean cuts him off with his morning kiss. "You want waffles, Sunshine?" 

Cas just stands there, mouth open in shock. Dean smiles at it and carries out the rest of his usual dream morning. He sits Cas down at the table and makes him his waffles, just like always. 

When he puts them down in front of Cas, Dean makes a point to lean down and kiss the top of his head. "Here ya go." 

"Thank - thank you?" Cas still looks surprised, and he doesn't touch his waffles. "Dean, I have to tell you something." 

That’s when things start to _really_  feel off. Dean starts picking up the things he ignored before; the different clothes and the way Cas holds himself. He's not loose and human like he usually is in these dreams. A feeling starts creeping in and dread settles in Dean’s check. This isn't going to be one of the good dreams, is it? 

He slowly folds up his newspaper and puts it down again. "What’s up, Cas?" 

"I can't stay long. It's very difficult to do this from such a distance without Jack knowing." Cas shifts in his seat and looks around, like he’s expecting someone else to be in the room with him. 

For a moment, Dean’s confused. "I don't know what you're talking about." 

"I'm with _Jack,_ Dean. He brought me back." 

Dean shakes his head. "I don't know a Jack." 

But the real life memories are coming back. Jack, Lucifer, Mom, _Cas_. They’re coming back and Dean can taste the smoke from the pyre in the back of his throat. This is _definitely_  becoming a nightmare, and he doesn’t want to have to see Cas leave. Not again.

"This is a dream, Dean." Cas says it slowly, likes he’s trying to make him understand.

He brings his hands down on the table hard and stands up. "I _know_!” 

“Then please listen to me.” Cas stands too with far less anger in his motions. “I can't leave Jack's side, but I want you to know that I'm back." 

"You're not back.” Dean shakes his head again and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to block out the memories. “You're _dead_.” 

“Not anymore." 

But Cas's words are falling on deaf ears and Dean doesn’t want to open his eyes. He’s scared he’ll be standing there over Cas’s body again, the crunch of a burned grass under his booths. “You'll still be gone when I wake up." 

Cas moves around to Dean's side of the table and puts his hand on his shoulder. "I can't leave Jack's side. He won't let me and I barely have the strength to visit you like this. You have to come get me and break his hold."

"You're dead, Cas." Dean chokes on the words and fights back against the rising tide of tears stinging the back of his eyes.

"Dean. When you wake up from this dream, I _need_ you to remember that I'm not."

But Dean doesn't remember. 

He writes the dream off as a nightmare the moment when Cas disappears in the middle of it. His dreams are always a nightmare when he doesn't get to tell Cas that he loves him.

That’s was the first time his good dreams changed, and they never go back to being like that again. Every night, Cas shows up in his dreams just like that; just like he was never gone. No matter whether the dreams are when they’re happy homemakers together or not. Always he has the same message, and he always leaves before Dean can get enough of a grip on himself to say what he wants to say to every iteration of Cas that he meets in his dreams.

After a few weeks of nothing but what he considers nightmares, Dean has had enough with sleep. He’s been no stranger to the bottle, and he starts hitting those harder than he was before. If he drinks enough, his sleep is dreamless and he doesn’t have to be haunted by one of his biggest regrets in life. It means he’s giving up on his good dreams entirely, but that’s fine. Apparently they're not coming back - just like Cas isn't. 

Of course Dean remembers Cas's message. It’s burned into his mind alongside a lot of images he wishes he could forget. Part of him wants to tell Sam about it, but he doesn't. Why would he tell him when he sure as hell doesn't believe in that message himself? Like, seriously. What even are the chances that Cas would be brought back to him _again_?

* * *

 

When Dean stops sleeping as much and his sleep is dreamless when he does, Castiel still manages to get his message through. Only those times they go to a different recipient. Castiel turns to Sam's dreams then, and it only takes one dream for Sam to believe in him. He’ll chase after any straws no matter how unlikely they are if it means he can try and help Dean, even it it means that he has to investigate all this on his own. Sam loves his brother, but the doesn't have to get Dean's hopes up only to have them crash and burn if it turns out that the message really was just a dream. 

He starts by making some calls and pulling some strings. They’ve got a little network of people spread out across the country and Sam gets every single one of them on the look out for Jack. They’re all looking for him and for Cas. Since Cas sticks out like a sore thumb with his coat, anyone should be able to recognize him. 

Sam doesn’t expect to get answers right away, but it's the best that he can do right now. 

* * *

 

After a while, Dean starts to miss Cas too much again. Even seeing him in his nightmares is better than not seeing him at all. 

The next time he lets himself dream, it starts as a nightmare; dark and burning and filled with pain; screams and laughter and blood. There’s a knife in his hand and hooks in his skin; Alistair's voice whispering in his ear. Dean tries to resist the nightmare, but he cuts into the souls in his dreams just like he did when he was in Hell all those years ago. He cuts and he laughs, choking on it and loving it.

It startles him when a bright arm circles his chest, a hand fitting over the long gone mark on his shoulder. There's a familiar voice in his ear, a rough; "Not again." 

Before he knows it, Dean is being yanked out of that darkness. Quite suddenly he’s naked and cold, curled up and shivering against a hard chest. Something falls over his shoulders and when he lifts his head it's that old familiar coat. He gets his feet under him and stands, and there's Cas in front of him again, shaking his head and trying to get his coat to rest on Dean’s properly. He’s trying to button it up and muttering to himself. 

There’s no point to what he’s doing though. Naked or not, Dean hugs Cas right then. It’s been too long for him not to and the coat ends up on the ground. He buries his face against Cas's shoulder and takes a deep breath, breathing his friend in. 

"I miss you." The words are out whether he wants them to or not. 

"I miss you too." Cas hugs him, his hands warm across Dean's back. "Sam is looking for me, but Jack doesn't want to be found and I don't know where we are. He’ll slip up eventually. It's only a matter of time." 

As far as Dean cares, Cas is just talking nonsense now. He shakes his head and holds on tighter. "Don't go again." 

"I can't stay. The more I dream walk, the more likely I am to get caught." 

"I need you, Cas." He chokes out the words and holds on tighter when he feels Cas’s arms slipping away.

Instead, the squeeze around his middle. "Yes, I know. We're better together, if I recall." 

 "Always have been." Dean lifts his head with a huff of a laugh and his vision blurs. He doesn't want to cry in front of Cas, not even in his dreams, but his heart aches with hope and loss and everything in between. "I wanna tell you something I never got to when you were alive." 

Cas rolls his eyes. "I’m not _dead_ anymore. When will you start to believe me?"

"The day I wake up and you're right there next to me."

Cas makes a pained expression and Dean catches his face in his hands; thumbs working to smooth out the creases of that frown. "You gonna listen to what I have to say or you just gonna disappear on me again?" 

Cas goes soft and he leans into Dean's touch, eyes closing briefly. "I'll listen." 

"Good." Dean leans in and he kisses Cas. He kisses him until the stiff shock of surprise melts into pliant submission. He kisses him until Cas kisses back, soft and hesitant. 

His mouth is slack, his lips shiny, and his eyes hooded when Dean steps back again. He grins and runs him thumb over Cas's bottom lip. "Can't tell ya how often I've wanted to do that." 

"Then why didn't you do it?" Cas’s voice is small.

"Wouldn't've been right." There were too many things that he was afraid of, and it was only after losing Cas for good that he realized just how fucking stupid he was.

"Yes, it would have." 

Dean shakes his head. "Not without you knowing."

Cas steps forward, closing what little space is between them. His hands seek out Dean's and he holds them tightly. "Then tell me now, Dean." 

His heart starts pounding again, like a loud drum in his ears. That old familiar nervousness makes his hands shake, but Cas holds them; keeps them steady. His nerves are what kept him from saying anything in real life. It was never the right time, never the opportune moment. But this isn't real life. This is just a dream, and he's said it a hundred times over in all his other dreams; even long before Cas's wings were scorch marks in the ground. 

"I love you, Cas." 

Cas smiles soft and sweet. He leans in until their foreheads bump. It's intimate and makes Dean's heart jump like nothing else. "I'll give you my answer to that when I see you again." 

"Cas?" 

"Consider it incentive." He kisses Dean then, slow and sure. 

And then Dean's awake and staring at the ceiling of his bedroom. He woke up the moment Cas disappeared, and his lips still tingle. He brings a hand to them and rolls over, memories of the dream replaying in his head. 

* * *

 

It's a few months down the road, almost half a year later in fact, when Dean finally gets to hear the answer and feel that kiss for real.


End file.
